


Perfect is in the eyes of the beholder

by Naicele



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, First Time, M/M, Overthinking, laughing a lot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-14
Updated: 2017-05-14
Packaged: 2018-10-31 20:20:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10906761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Naicele/pseuds/Naicele
Summary: Stiles is finally getting Derek into bed, life could not be better. Yet somehow things get complicated and Stiles might just be about to ruin everything.





	Perfect is in the eyes of the beholder

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wolverinetodd](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=wolverinetodd).



> This is for wolverinetodd who wanted more smut. I’m sorry, because it turned into something more than just sexy times. Hope you enjoy anyway =)

Stiles is nervous.

Or nervous is just the beginning of what he is. He is also terrified, turned on, tantalized, tantric, and oh did he mention terrified?

He is in Derek’s flat, the one he moved to after the hole in the wall in the loft became old.

He is here because he is going to sleep with Derek. That much has been decided, sort of at least.

He feels like now that he is finally here, about to do the dirty with Derek whom he is pretty gone on he should be excited. He is also going to lose his virginity for reals and that too should be something to be both happy and excited about. Instead here he sits, too spooked out to even fidget.

Derek comes back from the kitchen; the glass of water Stiles had asked for but didn’t really want in hand. And since when did Stiles not get his own water at Derek’s?

He sips it for appearances while Derek sits down next to him and starts to fiddle with the stuff on the coffee table.

For a while they just sit there and it is weird, so weird. It throws Stiles off.

It had been different before, stolen make-out sessions and heated kisses when nobody saw. All in the moment and rushed, not talked about.

They had been in their element, out and about, running, protecting, arguing. The making out just an extension of the tension that had always been there between them.

That had been easy, Stiles had just gone with the flow.

Now that he is in Derek’s flat, just the two of them and absolutely no monsters around, it is different. Derek heard him on the phone when he told his dad that he was not coming home tonight, that he was sleeping at Scott’s.

In the silent apartment it is all just hanging there between them, pregnant, excuse the pun.

He can’t help but wonder if he and Derek can’t do it out in the real world of couches and running water. Do they only function if there is life threatening danger and mythological stories come to life?

The normality of the setting, a Friday evening in his boyfriend’s living room, makes him feel out of place, out of character.

He is overthinking this, he knows it and he is getting himself worked up over what is probably nothing. But, he is terrified that he is going to ruin this like he often does when his mind starts to run in nervous circles around itself.

Stiles swallows and tries to find some words, any word at this point. Normally they come to him unbidden, he always uses them to hide how he is really feeling. Now he feels too raw, laid bare, to even know where to start.

For the last few weeks as this thing with Derek has been ongoing he has thought about how this would go. How it would be.

This is not what he had imagined. Not even before he started lusting over Derek would he have imagined something as awkward as this. If he had thought about it he would have imagined Derek to just take command and sexily sweep him off his feet. Not perch at the very edge of the couch, almost a full cushion between them.

But he has learnt that Derek might look like sex on legs, but in reality he is uncertain and careful. Right until the point when Stiles has provoked him enough that he forgets his inhibitions and just goes for it.

In his fantasies him and Derek are so smooth, so perfect. No explaining, or awkward moments like this. They simply grab at each other, clothes magically falling away, both knowing exactly what to do, and then it is mostly a haze of heated sexy thoughts while Stiles gets himself off.

The reality of it is different. Real Derek is… well real.

“So let’s get this show on the road, shall we,” he says eventually, and cringes inward at how feebly his voice comes out.

At least Derek seems to have unfrozen from Stiles’s words and he stops trying to align the remote controllers and turns to Stiles, a hand tangling into Stiles growing hair and the other soft on his cheek. He leans in and this is better Stiles thinks, this will be OK.

They kiss but instead of it feeling good and mind blowing like the other times it feels stilted and dry. Stiles pushes through it, because this is going to be perfect even if he has to beat it into shape.

The living room feels oppressively silent but Stiles don’t want to ask Derek to put music on, it feels like that would be too cheesy or something.

He tries to make up for his uncertainty with enthusiasm. Hands grabbing at Derek and going in under his shirt. He tries to nip at Derek’s lower lip with his teeth and moan a bit, but it sounds so fake in his own ears that instead of growing hard he can feel his dick trying to crawl back inside his body.

Instead of warm Derek feels cold and stiff and Stiles does not know how to fix this, how to make it perfect.

He pulls Derek to him, tries to get him on top of him while he slides down the coach. His jeans catches on the fabric and he has to ungracefully wriggle the last bit.

He is interrupted by a clonk and the sound of water.

It’s the glass, knocked over by Stiles’s flailing arm. He tries to throw himself after it as it rolls towards the edge of the table, water already all over the surface, circling the remotes and stack of magazines. Instead he manages to get in the way as Derek, with the reflexes to actually pull that off, tries the same thing.

Derek gets caught up in Stiles’s legs and they both end up in a jumble of limbs on the floor. In the corner of his eye Stiles can see the glass leisurely topple over the edge and shatter in a hundred sharp fragments.

“Fuck,” he manages and lets his head fall back down on the carpet.

The broken glass feels like a metaphor of how badly he ruined the evening.

“I am sorry about that,” he says, feeling utterly mortified.

“Don’t worry. I was not particularly attached to that glass,” Derek says, head somehow under Stiles’s right knee.

“Not for the glass, for ruining this with my spasticness,” Stiles says, eyes closed because he is sick of himself not being able to do things properly, it is like a sour burn in his stomach.

Derek is silent for a bit.

“You really think you ruined it?” he asks eventually and he sounds like Stiles did indeed ruin it, guarded and not in the mood.

“Of course I did, just look at us now” Stiles covers his face in his hands, “Sorry about being useless.” He spares a thought that maybe he is over-reacting but it’s like he can’t stop himself.He He is

“No, just...” Derek says as he untangles himself and comes to lie next to Stiles, coffee table pushed out of the way.

 “You couldn’t ruin something like this by being yourself,” Derek finishes as he flops down, shoulder to shoulder with Stiles.

Together they peer up at the ceiling.

Derek continues, “I like you Stiles, all the energy, and humanness and everything.

The ceiling fan is still and the arms has stopped so they form an off-centre pentagram from Stiles point of view.

“And you are not useless,” Derek says slowly.

“Immature then,” Stiles says because the mood still feels off and he was always the child who could not help but pick at his scabs.

“Well you aren’t an adult. Not in the sense of someone who has grown up and feels in control of their life,” Derek says, one arm under his head.

“Neither am I by the way. I thought so for a while, but I think we all saw that I was wrong about that,” he laughs mirthlessly and that cuts in Stiles.

He rolls over on his side, head propped up on an elbow and tentatively puts a hand on Derek’s chest.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself man. You did your best. You are still doing your best. That’s all anyone can ask for.”

Derek doesn’t look convinced but he doesn’t say anything so Stiles takes that as a partial win. There will be other times to convince Derek that not everything that’s wrong with the world is his fault.

They stay like that for a while, no one moving to pick up the pieces of broken glass or save the coffee table and its content.

“Do you really want to do this?” Derek asks eventually. He is not looking at Stiles.

“Yes I really, really do,” Stiles answers honestly, because he does. He just doesn’t know how.

He must have said the last bit out loud because Derek smiles and turns to face him.

“News flash, I don’t know what I am doing either.”

“But you have had sex before,” Stiles says and it is not a question because he is pretty sure about that.

Derek laughs, “Yeah I have had sex, but not with you.” He puts a hand on Stile’s side, just where his waist tapers in a little. He draws circles on top of his t-shirt and his hand feels warm again, like it should.

“Everyone is different,” he continues, “You are the only one who knows what you like and you have to teach me. Just like I have to teach you what I like. That’s not gonna happen today you know, something like that takes time.”

“And repetition,” Stiles adds and smiles wickedly.

“Ha, yeah,” Derek agrees and he is smiling now.

“I just want it to be perfect for you,” Stiles says and he regrets it instantly, like he admitted too much, too early.

“Don’t do that,” Derek says sadly, “Don’t build it up in your mind to be something it can’t. You will only be disappointed.”

Stiles sits up and now the words come to him again. He splutters, “I am not gonna be disappointed, I get to have sex with that,” he waves his hands all over Derek to indicate his extreme hotness.

“I get to have sex with you,” Derek simply replies, “Don’t sell yourself short.”

Stiles leaves that topic because his sense of self-worth is also a discussion for another time.

“Let’s just take it as it comes,” Derek tries, and his fingers still feels new on Stiles, but even so it is comforting.

“I don’t know but I feel like there are a whole host of rules to this but nobody tells you what they are so you just have to make shit up as you go along and try not to make a fool of yourself.” Stiles says, intently looking at his own hand as it is still splayed out on Derek’s chest. A perfect hand-shaped form on Derek’s black tee.

Derek laughs and Stiles wonder for a second if it is at him, or with him and he can feel the uncertainty creep back.

“Stiles Stilinski do you want to make a fool of yourself with me?” Derek says, as if he can sense Stiles retreating back into his shell again, his voice serious and low.

Stiles can’t stop the snort that explodes out his nose. It is neither sexy nor dignified, “Oh dude thats…,” he clamps a hand over his mouth, “I shouldn’t laugh.”

Derek just shrugs his shoulders, “Why not. There’s no rule saying sex can’t be fun. This isn’t a harlequin novel, no need for you to sigh profoundly while we gaze into each other’s eyes.

Stiles considers it, takes his time. Surely it is not that simple, can he really do sex like he does everything else?

“So what should I do then?” He asks.

“I don’t know, you decide,” Derek says like he is trying to emphasise that he hasn’t got the answers either.

“So shall we like, try again?” Stiles asks, he still feels self-conscious, but he thinks he can manage it now.

“Sure,” Derek says.

“Tell me, what do you want?”

Stiles has to look away, a different blush spreading. He scratches at the back of his neck.

“I want the full thing. You to, you know with your ehrm in my…” he trails off losing his words again.

Derek doesn’t seem to mind though.

“You sure you don’t want to save anything?”

“Saving is for losers,” Stiles starts, “Have you been to Beacon Hills lately? The chance that I die horribly and bloody tomorrow are oh so real. I would rather try everything all at once than die having missed out you know.”

“And I really like you,” he adds because that feels important somehow.

“OK,” Derek simply says and he looks softer somehow, like he dropped his guard. He looks more, Stiles brain tries to say human but that is not what Derek is and Stiles respects that. Younger perhaps is a better word he thinks.

“I like you too Stiles,” Derek says and Stiles leans forward.

He slots his mouth over Derek’s, and its better this time. Less fraught with his desire for it to be perfect and more… real.

After all, they aren’t perfect so why should this be?

 

They kiss for a while, and it is a slow build. Stiles has time to edge into it.

They eventually get up and make it out of the living room, Stiles manages to stub his toe on a corner and forces Derek to carry him the last bit to the bed.

Once there Derek bends over Stiles as he lies on his back. He places a line of kisses just where Stiles’s boxers and t-shirt meet. When he slides a hand under and pushes up and his mouth follows Stiles can’t help but squirm violently. He laughs as Derek’s stubble tickles his sensitive spot and slaps at Derek’s head.

“Stop dude, stop,” he tries to get out.

Derek lets him go and brings his head up to Stiles.

“Ok, so rule number one, tickling is unfair,” Stiles says.

“OK,” Derek says with a small smile. He cups Stiles’s cheek in his hand, his thumb caressing his bottom lip as Stiles calms down and stops laughing.

It feels affectionate. They are far from the rough, brooding sexy times Stiles had imagined tonight would be like.

This, what they are doing right now, feels real.

Stiles scoots back and drags Derek to his knees, so they stand facing each other on the bed. He pulls off first his own, then Derek’s t-shirt before edging close and pressing their naked chests against each other.

It goes sort of well from there. Well, taking socks off is apparently as awkward alone as it is together with someone else. But Stiles had been getting quite riles up the way Derek had kissed his neck and ground a knee in between his legs so he had needed a breather anyway.

Also, seeing Derek trying to pull his tight jeans off before taking off his socks was a memory Stiles was going to treasure. The way that Derek had thrown a pillow at him for laughing was just the icing on the cake.

After they get naked and Derek wins the argument on Stiles taking his fingers first they get back to kissing, while Derek slides a long, lube slick finger into Stiles.

“How is that,” Derek says, pupils wide and black.

“Cold and a bit weird to be honest,” Stiles replies, hand wrapped around Derek’s biceps, feeling the muscles move as Derek moves a finger inside Stiles.

“I want you to be honest,” Derek says and places little kisses on Stiles forehead.

“Say stop any time you want me to stop,” Derek adds.

“Not stop, continue,” Stiles says as he bends his head in an uncomfortable angle, trying to lick Derek nipple. They are super sensitive he is learning.

Soon Derek adds a second finger and Stiles gives up on trying to reach Derek with his tongue and instead he simply tries to relax into it.

Before adding a third, Derek slips down the bed and takes Stiles slightly soft cook into his mouth.

Stiles leans up on his elbows and it’s like he can feel his blood flow. The sight of Derek bending over him, dark hair falling over his forehead and lips stretched around Stiles, is so fucking beautiful.

It is also much better this way, Stiles likes this and he tells Derek so. Derek just smiles around Stiles and moves three fingers inside him.

Then just as Stiles is getting the hang of it Derek plops off and pulls his fingers gently out of Stiles.

He feels empty and exposed to the night. It is quickly remedied as Derek crawls up his body, placing himself in-between Stiles’s knees.

Stiles can feel Derek’s hard-on against his leg. The tip is wet and as his dick slides along it leaves a slick trail on the inside of Stiles thigh.

“You ready?” Derek asks a bit hoarsely and Stiles wants to hit him over the head.

“Dude, how many times do I have to say it, just stick it to me.”

Derek snorts, a fast burst of laughter and Stiles paws uselessly at his broad shoulders, urging him on.

Derek stays poised at the entrance, fat head resting against Stiles. He bends down and locks his lips in a kiss, and it is playful and loving, all at once.

“Promise me you will never try to talk dirty to me, OK?”

“Anything as long as we do this now,” Stiles huffs in between licking into Derek’s mouth and running his hands across the vast expanse of Derek’s back.

Derek moves then, oh so slowly pushes forward and time seems to expand out forever as Stiles feels himself stretch and stretch. The sensation is different from Derek’s fingers, they were sharper, the knuckles uneven. This feels smooth and hot and oh so right.

He closes his eyes; he doesn’t want to be distracted by anything else right now but the slick feel of Derek sliding into him.

“You OK?” Derek asks as he bottoms out and Stiles has to open his eyes. He takes in Derek’s flush cheeks, the bead of sweat on his upper lip and thinks that yeah, he is more than OK, he is great.

“Stiles, talk to me?” Derek says and Stiles realises that he forgot to reply.

“So, so very good,” He says, fingers carding through Derek’s hair, all flat and soft right now, unruly and adorable.

“Good,” Derek says, and he looks relieved.

“Come here,” Stiles says and drags Derek’s stupid face down so he can rub their noses together and he doesn’t even care that he is being ridiculous because he feels close to Derek right now and generous, he feels fine with letting his guard down.

All that thinking stops as Derek starts to move and from there on it is all the slick slide of skin, panting, and most of all the reverent look on Derek’s face.

Turns out Derek is loud and Stiles loves it, the way he pants and moans and says Stiles name over and over. Add the slightly strange but good feeling of Derek inside him and how his dick is trapped between their bellies, head slowly rubbed back and forth as they move.

“I’m not going to last long,” Derek pants and Stiles is glad he is not the one who has to admit to that first.

“Right there with you,” he pants, hands pawing uselessly at Derek’s ass as it clenches and unclenches with each trust.

Derek smiles lopsidedly and it so very beautiful it hurts Stiles.

Derek picks up the pace, hips jerking erratically back and forth, one hand around Stiles thigh, bending his leg up in a way that probably would have hurt had he not been so gone right now.

The sound of Derek coming, voice constricting around Stiles’s name and entire body twitching does it for Stiles and he can feel his toes curls as he spills everything he got in-between them.

 

Afterwards he just lies there. Body soft and pliant, taking shallow breaths because Derek is heavy on top of him. He is too happy to care though, a warmth in his limbs that feels like it will last forever and keep even the worst dreams at bay.

Derek is the one to move first, sliding out in a wet sticky mess and curling up along Stiles’s side, arm across his middle and one leg over Stiles’s.

“That was awesome,” Stiles finally manages.

“Mmm,” Derek says, face buried in Stiles neck, chin rubbing back and forth and Stiles skin is going to go all red if he keeps that up.

“Is it always gonna be this good?” Stiles asks, catching Derek’s hand in his, weaving their fingers together.

Derek lifts his head up and smiles at Stiles, “Probably not all the time. If we keep doing this then sometimes we will be tired and only care about getting off quickly and sometimes a phone will ring and ruin the mood. Sex is just life, sometimes it is amazing and sometimes just average.”

Stiles is quiet for a while, taking each of Derek’s knuckles between his finger and massaging them gently.

“I can do that,” he says, “I think,” he adds. “I mean I want to keep doing this. With you.”

“Me too,” Derek replies and Stiles thought he would say that, but it still settles something in his stomach.

Stiles laughs out loud then. He turns his head and looks Derek in the eyes.

“Derek Hale, will you have average, everyday sex with me?” He asks, eyes glittering while he tries to keep his voice solemn.

“I would like nothing better,” Derek says, lips twitching up at the edges as he tries to mirror Stiles’s mock seriousness.

“It is decided then,” Stiles says and leans down to slot his lips over Derek’s because he can’t stand not kissing him any longer.

 

 

The End

**Author's Note:**

> P.s. no real disrespect meant to Harlequin novels, (miss)spent youth and all...


End file.
